


True Face of Love

by chiiyo86



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 4: The House of Hades (Heroes of Olympus), M/M, forced confession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22588678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiiyo86/pseuds/chiiyo86
Summary: When Cupid forces Nico to confess his secret, the person with him is Percy.
Relationships: Nico di Angelo/Percy Jackson
Comments: 20
Kudos: 351
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	True Face of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thisissirius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/gifts).



> I've always been interested in the idea of what would happen if Percy and not Jason were there when Nico makes his confession. So here's my attempt at writing it, and I really hope you'll enjoy this treat! :)
> 
> Assume here that Percy and Annabeth haven't fallen into Tartarus, and that our plucky team of demigods will somehow find a way to still close the Doors of Death.

“Welcome to Salona!” Zephyros exclaimed like a tourist guide to his enraptured audience. “Capital of Dalmatia! Birthplace of Diocletian! But before, _long_ before that, it was the home of Cupid.”

All that was left of the city were some half-buried ruins, broken columns and empty pedestals, scattered over the hillside like the stony breadcrumbs of a very old meal. It was Percy’s first time seeing Roman ruins, and he might have been kind of impressed at the notion that hundreds of years ago this had been a bustling metropole if he hadn’t noticed right then that Jason wasn’t with them anymore.

Riptide was in his hand in an instant. “Where’s our friend?” he asked, pointing his weapon at the god of the West Wind. “What did you do to him?”

“I didn’t do anything to him,” Zephyros replied. The dude still looked chill as a cucumber, completely unbothered by Percy’s blade. “I just left him behind at Diocletian’s palace. He wasn’t needed for the conversation you’re about to have with my master.”

A few feet away, Nico made a choked-off sound that had Percy glancing in his direction to check if he was okay. Nico was leaning against a column, his face paler than his usual, which didn’t seem like it should be possible unless the guy had actually died. Maybe being carried by the wind had shaken him up, but Percy had experienced shadow-travel and he felt that if Nico could handle it, he should have been able to take being scattered and reformed by a strong gust of wind. 

“You okay?” he asked, his sword tipping down in concern.

“No,” Nico said in a rough voice, as if he were talking through extraordinary pain. “I don’t want to be here.”

He wasn’t looking in Percy’s direction, but then he’d been doing a lot of that since they’d saved him from the jar. Jason had said that Nico avoided everyone except for Hazel when they’d discussed it together, but Percy sure felt like he was getting a special treatment. Which was a bit rich, considering that _Nico_ had been the one lying to his face when he’d pretended not to know Percy at Camp Jupiter. After everything Nico had gone through, it was hard to stay mad at him, but Percy didn’t like feeling like _he_ was the one at fault. 

“Why are you saying that Jason isn’t needed for this conversation?” Percy said, focusing again on Zephyros. “If anything, I’m the one who imposed myself—Jason is a son of Jupiter, like Diocletian, and Nico can talk to spirits. I’m just along for the ride because I couldn’t stand being stuck on the _Argo II_ anymore.”

“You’re not going to be talking to Diocletian, but to my master,” Zephyros said. “It doesn’t matter whose son you are. Well, I’m going to leave you to it, now. Good luck!”

With a little wave, the god disappeared in a swirl of red and gold. Percy glanced again at Nico and saw that the grass at his feet had wilted, leaving the son of Hades at the center of a brownish circle of dead grass that continued to spread, as though Nico was poisoning the earth with unadulterated death. Percy was getting more uneasy by the second. Zephyros’ master was Cupid, god of Love. Zephyros was implying that Cupid wanted to talk to them about something love-related and Nico looked about to throw up on his own shoes. Percy was starting to have an awful inkling of what this was all about; after all, Annabeth and he had speculated before that Nico might have a crush on her. This would certainly explain why Nico had been treating Percy as if he wouldn’t piss on him if he were on fire. 

Zephyros and Cupid would probably force them to have this conversation whether they wanted it or not. This was how the gods got their rocks off. It would be fine, Percy thought. He had absolutely no reason to be jealous, because he trusted his relationship with Annabeth and he didn’t think she would go for Nico even if they broke up. It would be awkward for Nico to admit it, but if he did, maybe they would be able to move past this and try to be friends. 

“All right,” Percy said, twirling his sword. “Bring it on.”

He had kept his sword with him more because it made him feel better than because he thought he was about to get into a fight—to a battle-worn demigod like him, a weapon was a sort of safety blanket—but when he felt something whizz past his face and then hit a column, he thought he’d been inspired not to cap it back.

“What in Hades?” he shouted. “Is this what you call a conversation?”

A deep, dark chuckle answered him, coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. It was so creepy that Percy wondered for a moment whether Zephyros hadn’t lied to them—wasn’t Cupid supposed to look like a winged chubby baby? 

_You utter bold words, Percy Jackson,_ the disembodied voice said. _Do you really think that you have love all figured out?_

Nico had also gotten his sword out and his dark eyes flitted around nervously as he tried to anticipate where the next blow might come from. Percy stepped toward him, thinking that they should at least guard each other’s back, when he felt something hit his leg, making his knee buckle. At the same time, he saw Nico leap aside as an arrow materialized out of thin air and flew past his face, close enough that it caught some of his hair. 

_You can’t fight Love,_ Cupid said, his voice traveling as though carried by the wind. _It always wins in the end._

“I might not have love figured out,” Percy said, “but I know assholes who like to hear themselves talk. We didn’t come here to fight! We just want Diocletian’s scepter! Can’t we just get it and skip the godly posturing?”

He saw the next arrow just in time to deflect it with his sword. He’d managed to get close enough to Nico now that they could stand back to back, which made Percy feel marginally better about fighting an unbalanced fight with a god that wouldn’t even show his face.

_Are you strong enough to gaze upon the true face of Love? Not many can._

“Are you reading my thoughts, now?” Percy said. “What do you _want_?”

 _Nico di Angelo knows what I want_.

“Nico?” Percy asked.

“I don’t know,” Nico said. “I don’t know anything.”

_How long can you keep running away from what your heart wants, Nico di Angelo?_

“What do you know of what my heart wants?” Nico spat out. “I don’t owe you anything!”

Two arrows materialized at the same time, just when Percy was getting distracted by the anguish in Nico’s voice. He managed to dodge the first one, but the second hit his shoulder. Percy let out a string of curses, grabbing the part that was hit. It hurt fiercely, but when Percy looked at his hand, it was clean of any blood. Glancing down, he saw that his shoulder was intact. It _felt_ like something had punctured his flesh and hit the bone, but it didn’t look like it.

“Percy? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, don’t get distracted!”

Something invisible shoved into Nico, who crashed against Percy. Together they tumbled down a set of crumbling stone stairs. Even eroded by centuries of being exposed to all kinds of weathers, the stairs still left Percy feeling like he’d taken a beating when he landed at the bottom. Disoriented, he pushed himself up on his hands and knees, searching the grass with his eyes as he tried to find where he’d dropped his sword.

“Nico, are you o—”

Before he could finish his question, he felt something like a giant fist slam down on his back, hard enough that Percy thought his spine would break. He found himself face first in the grass, dirt in his mouth, gasping from the pain. His eyes had filled with tears, but he still caught sight of something that glinted in-between tufts of grass, just barely within reach. He blindly extended his arm to grab his sword while he tried to rise again. This time, an invisible blow glanced off the edge of his jaw. Percy bit his tongue, tasting blood, but he’d managed to get hold of his sword. Rolling over on his back, he slashed the air with his blade and met resistance. 

“Got you!” he said between gritted teeth. 

At the same moment, he saw the column next to him tip over and only had a few seconds to roll out of the way and avoid getting flattened like a pancake. The stone pillar crashed on the ground and shards of stone shot at Percy, grazing the bare skin of his face and arms. Percy scrambled on his knees as quickly as he could, only to get smacked down again. 

“Now you’re just picking on me,” Percy groaned, spitting pink-colored saliva in the grass. 

“Leave him alone!” Nico yelled. “It’s me you want!”

Percy looked up and saw that shadows had pooled at Nico’s feet, lapping the tips of his boots like friendly waves. Nico was holding his Stygian iron sword with both hands, the blade glowing with purple malevolence. The left side of his face was bleeding, probably from his tumble down the stairs, and the air around him was so cold that Percy could feel it from where he was, prickling his skin and raising the hairs all over his arms. 

_Love is daring to bare yourself in front of the one you love. Are you that brave?_

“I’m not afraid of you!” Nico shouted, but his hands were shaking too hard for his words to be anything but a bold lie.

A shower of arrows rained down at him and Nico spun around, trying to deflect as many of them as he could. Percy saw some of them hit anyway, and even though they left no wound behind, he knew from experience that Nico still felt the pain. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Percy said. “I _hate_ bullies.”

When he tried to get up again, more arrows darted at him, but this time he was quick enough to either dodge or fend them off. Cupid was obviously trying to keep Nico and him apart and Percy was tired of dancing to the god’s tune. Springing on his feet, he rushed in Nico’s direction, twirling his sword over his head to protect himself from Cupid’s arrows. It worked, until it didn’t and one of the arrows hit him right in the solar plexus. Breath was kicked out of Percy, and when he tried to inhale it felt like taking in a lungful of fire. He fell down to his knees, his vision blurring and his ears ringing so loudly that he could barely hear the faraway, garbled sound of Nico calling his name. 

“Stop it! Stop hurting him, please stop it.”

_You’re the one who has the power to stop it. You know what you have to do. Finally be honest, with yourself and with him._

“I can’t, I can’t.” Percy couldn’t hear very well, but it sounded like Nico was crying. 

_Damn_ , he thought, _this must be more than a simple crush._

“It’s all right,” Percy said, or at least meant to say. His head hurt, his jaw hurt, his chest hurt, and his vision was still a bit hazy, even after blinking several times. Digging his elbows into the ground, he tried to lever himself up, even as his head spun so hard that it felt like he was clinging to his own personal carousel. He coughed, then swallowed. “Nico, it’s fine. Whatever—whatever you have to say, it’ll be okay. I promise I won’t be mad.”

He looked at Nico, blinking again, and his vision finally cleared enough for him to be able to see Nico’s face. The look in Nico’s eyes was terrible: Percy could read anger, and fear, as well as something else, an emotion so great and frightful that he could feel it pierce him like the blade of Nico’s sword—was it hatred? Did Nico really hate him for being Annabeth’s boyfriend? 

“I hate you so much,” Nico said in a pained whisper. 

Percy’s heart sank. He’d wondered before if Nico hated him, but he’d hoped he was wrong and it sucked to have confirmation.

 _Here you go again._ Cupid’s whisper made the air vibrate around them. _Doing what you always do, running from your feelings, hiding in the shadows, pushing away everyone who might get close enough to figure out your secret. Do you think Percy gets it yet? Do you think he’s figured it out?_

“Shut up!” Nico shrieked, so hard he must have hurt his throat. “Shut up, shut up, _shut up!_ ”

He stomped his foot on the ground, which split open, vomiting skeletons from its cracks. Pieces of togas or armors hung off the bony frames of the dead Romans, who crawled through the grass like a colony of maggots. The shadows around Nico twirled, hugging him close and then blasting out of him like the shock wave of an exploding bomb. Percy had one second to panic before the wave of darkness hit him and he was washed over by a wave of anger, fear and shame—all belonging to Nico.

Images flitted through his mind, fragments of Nico’s memories. Percy could see himself in most of them, a dizzying out of body experience, as he saw himself from angles that a mirror could never catch. At first the memories flashed too fast for Percy to be able to make sense of them or put them back in their context, and then the mad swirl stabilized and settled on one memory that Percy identified immediately: they were at Hades’ palace, in the cell where Nico’s father had thrown Percy, right after Nico had startled Percy awake and Percy had pinned him to the floor. Percy could remember how angry he’d been at Nico then, for lying to him and tricking him, but it was disturbing to see his own face distorted by fury. His knee was planted at the center of Nico’s chest, trapping the breath in Nico’s lungs. Nico was keenly aware of how much bigger than him Percy was, how much stronger, and it made his insides twist with true fear, the first time he’d ever been afraid of Percy, but another feeling was mixed with the fear, something warm that coiled at the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t entirely bad to have Percy so close, to feel his body against Nico’s, no, it wasn’t so bad at all, it was even sort of nice—

The memory skipped the rest of the scene and jumped to another moment, later, after Percy had gone dipping into the River Styx. “You’ll be more help down here,” he was saying to Nico.

“You mean you don’t trust me anymore,” Nico said.

All he’d wanted was to make Percy like him, but he couldn’t even do that right. Now Percy hated him and the thought was so unbearable that Nico wanted to throw up. How stupid he’d been, thinking that he could get Percy to _see_ him, to want to be with him, the way Nico wanted to be with Percy, always, all the time, so much that it drove him crazy sometimes. But Percy would never like Nico because Nico was unlikeable, repulsive, disgusting—

Percy’s consciousness tore through the flood of self-loathing thoughts and he shook himself, trying to focus on present time again. The aftereffects of Nico’s feelings lingered in his heart like a bad aftertaste at the back of his throat. He felt like he’d been one more time hit over the head and couldn’t think about what he’d just seen. Instead he looked around, shaking his head dazedly, half-convinced that Nico’s skeletons were about to jump him. The skeletons weren’t anywhere near him, though. They were struggling with something invisible, probably Cupid himself. The invisible god managed to throw some of them off, but they kept picking themselves up and coming again at him, even when they were missing hands, arms, or ribs, spurred on by a relentless force—most likely Nico’s desperation. 

_You have found me_ , Cupid said. Even as he was fighting the skeletons, it didn’t sound like he was out of breath or anything. _Does it mean that you have the strength to finally face your fears?_

“I don’t have to do anything,” Nico said. “I’ve got you. You won’t hurt him again.”

He wasn’t looking at Percy, but at the mass of skeletons that wrestled with thin air. Shadows clung to him and waves of hostility rolled off of him, strong enough that they took a physical toll on Percy. He reminded Percy of Hades, that same aura of dread, but under the fear that submerged him, Percy felt a persistent, probably suicidal urge to get up and go give him a hug. Nico looked so lonely among the shadows.

“Nico,” he croaked, but it didn’t look like Nico had heard him. 

Cupid wasn’t finished babbling. _Haven’t you come for the Diocletian’s scepter? Don’t you want to help your friends?_

“I have no friends,” Nico said. “I don’t belong anywhere.”

“Nico, no,” Percy blurted out. “That’s not true.”

Nico’s head whipped around, a stricken look on his face. There was so much agony in his eyes that it made Percy’s stomach flip with guilt, because even though he hadn’t pieced together what he’d seen in Nico’s memories yet, he had the confused sense that he was somehow responsible for Nico’s pain. He remembered Nico’s perspective on Percy pinning him to the floor, what it’d felt like for him. He’d been afraid, but not just that—it was almost as if he’d _liked_ it too. 

_Tell him,_ Cupid goaded Nico. _Tell him the truth or be a coward forever. Why did you leave Camp Half-Blood?_

“He’s going to hate me,” Nico said in a small voice, his eyes fixed on Percy as if he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“I wouldn’t,” Percy said. He pushed himself up, one arm wrapped around his sore ribs. “I know I’ve gotten mad at you before, but I could never truly hate you.”

Nico’s sword dipped down like a wilting flower and the skeletons that were fighting Cupid quieted. Percy expected Cupid to take advantage of that moment to taunt Nico again, but the god was silent and all Percy could hear was the hollow sound of the wind blowing through the city’s ruins. It felt like everything, dead, alive or godly, was holding its breath in expectation of Nico revealing his secret.

“You can tell me, Nico,” Percy said. “It’ll be fine, I promise.”

“I left Camp Half-Blood because… because I…” Nico’s sword arm dropped and he turned away from Percy. “I couldn’t stand to see you and Annabeth together.”

“You couldn’t stand it because… you had a crush on Annabeth?” Percy said, but even as he was saying it, he knew he was wrong.

“No,” Nico said, still not looking at him, a bitter edge to his voice. “Because of _you_. I had a crush on you, Percy.”

The words completely flipped Percy’s perspective around, but having seen Nico’s memories, he couldn’t really feel surprise at the declaration. What Nico had felt when Percy had pinned him to the floor was _desire_ , even though Nico hadn’t fully understood it at the time. The mere thought made Percy’s cheeks grow warm, as he juxtaposed his own memory of the event with Nico’s, one coloring the other in an entirely new way. Nico had been just a kid to Percy then, but Percy realized that since meeting him in Camp Jupiter, having no memory of a hyper ten-year-old Nico, he’d stopped thinking of Nico as younger than him. 

“So there,” Nico said. “That’s my big secret. I had a stupid crush on you when I was younger, and I’ve hated myself and you so much over it. Happy now?”

Percy wasn’t sure what he was supposed to feel about that reveal—awkwardness, disgust? But really, all he felt was heartbroken that he’d caused Nico so much pain over the years without meaning to. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that Love always makes you happy.” 

It was Cupid’s voice, but it was smaller and more human than before, and when Percy managed to tear his eyes away from Nico, he saw that Cupid had made himself visible, a young dark-haired man with white wings and red eyes that gleamed like embers. His face was breathtakingly beautiful, but there was nothing pleasant or comforting about his beauty. He had one of those faces that screamed ‘bad idea!’ very loudly. 

“Sometimes Love makes you incredibly sad,” Cupid went on, “but at least you’ve faced it now. That’s the only way to conquer me.”

On those words, the god of Love just went _poof_ , like a cloud of dandelion seeds scattered by the wind. The asshole probably thought his work here was done and didn’t care how they handled the mess he’d left behind. At least it wasn’t the only thing he’d left behind, because where he’d stood now lay an ivory staff topped with a dark globe of polished marble on the back of three golden eagles. Diocletian’s scepter. It was funny how Percy had almost forgotten that this was what they’d come here for. Painfully, he hauled himself to his feet and staggered up to Nico, who was looking at about anything but him. The skeletons he’d summoned were still idly hanging around, waiting for orders from a master who looked like he’d all but forgotten about them. 

“So, um,” Percy said, then stopped. Eloquence had never been his strong point, but what did you even say in those circumstances? Sorry? Thanks, I’m flattered, but I have a girlfriend?

“Don’t strain anything, Percy,” Nico said. When he turned his head to look at Percy, his glare was baleful. “You don’t have to say anything. You can forget all I’ve just said. It’s in the past, anyway. I don’t feel that way anymore.”

“Ah, okay.”

Nico’s face was blotched red from crying, and it was hard for Percy to forget how Nico had begged Cupid to stop hurting him. He wasn’t a master at reading others’ emotions—what had just happened made it glaringly obvious—but it didn’t look like Nico was as over his crush as he pretended to be. Who was Percy to tell him otherwise, though? Nico’s pride was probably in tatters right now and it would only hurt him more to point out that his earlier behavior didn’t match his words. 

“I guess we should get back to the ship,” Percy said. “How are we going to—”

As he spoke, his vision grayed and he felt himself list to the side. Nico caught him by the shoulder, steadying him. Percy slumped a little against him, his legs feeling wobbly. 

“Are you okay?” Nico asked. 

His voice had shifted from hurt anger to genuine concern, the change so sudden it gave Percy whiplash. For a moment, Percy was all too aware of Nico’s hand on his shoulder and of his body so close—not in a bad way, exactly, but with everything he now knew it was hard not to feel a bit self-conscious about physical proximity. Nico obviously had the same thought, because he jerkily moved away, although he kept his steadying hand on Percy’s shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Percy said. “Just got hit a few too many times. What about you?” he asked, looking at the sticky blood on Nico’s face and remembering that he’d been hit by some of Cupid’s arrows too. If Percy could still feel the pain of his invisible wounds, so could Nico.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay to stand?”

Percy said he was and Nico’s hand dropped from his shoulder. Nico sent back his skeletons underground and picked up the scepter. Once he was done, they shared a moment of floating awkwardness, neither of them doing or saying anything. Well, if Percy had to be the one to speak up first, then so be it. 

He took a deep breath and said, “It really is fine, you know. That you’ve liked me in the past or that you like boys in general. Everyone would be fine with it if they knew.”

Nico’s entire body went taut and his fists clenched. “If you say this to anyone, I will—”

“I won’t say anything!” Percy hurried to say. “It’s not my place to say anything to anyone about it. I just… I’m sorry you’ve hurt so much.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Nico turned aside, bringing his hand up to quickly wipe his eyes. “It’s not your fault if I’m screwed up.”

“Nico, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Whatever,” Nico said, looking down at the tip of his shoes. He sounded exhausted. “I can shadow-travel us back to the ship.”

“Yeah, all right.”

“But I—” Nico glanced sideways at Percy. “I’ll need to hold on to you if you’re coming with me.”

“Sure,” Percy said, extending his hand. Nico just looked at it at first, as though waiting for the hand to change into something dangerous. Percy jiggled his hand encouragingly until Nico slowly curled his fingers around it. The fingers were so cold it felt like holding a handful of icicles. Their shoulders brushed as Percy stepped closer to Nico. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Percy said. “We’ve seen enough of the sights for one day.”


End file.
